Late to Bethany
Martha confesses in the shadow of the tomb, with her brother's body decomposing behind a stone. Her faith does not depend on proof. It is spoken from inside grief.
Year A
Lent 5
A Sermon on John 11:1–45 given at Trinity Grace United Church of Canada on March 22, 2026
There is a sentence in our text that appears twice. Once on Martha's lips in verse 21, and once on Mary's lips in verse 32. The same words, spoken by two different women, at two different moments, to the same person:
"Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died."
I know this sentence. Not from seminary. Not from a commentary. I know it from my body. As you know, my father died recently. And when I finally arrived in Nazareth just in time for the funeral my sister said something to me. Not these exact words, but the shape of them. She said she wished Baba had waited. That he had held on just a little longer. Just until I got there.
My experience sheds new light on what Martha was really saying to Jesus. She was not making a theological argument. She was not questioning his power. She was saying: You were not here. You were not here for the last breath, the hand-holding, the closing of the eyes.
The scholars help us with the timeline. Jesus was across the Jordan about a day's journey from Bethany when the messenger arrived. And the text tells us, strangely, that when Jesus heard Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was for two more days. By the time he arrived, Lazarus had been in the tomb four days. Even if Jesus had left immediately, Lazarus would already have been dead for at least two days by the time he reached Bethany. The delay did not cause the death. Lazarus was likely dying or already dead when the messenger set out.
But that does not take the sting out of Martha's words. Jesus was not late for a miracle. He was late for a goodbye. He was late for the presence that grief demands — the body in the room, the hand on the forehead, the witness who can say: I was there.